Rak leans down, his fingers moving to feel for a pulse on the man laying down in front of him as his light thin blonde hair moves in front of his eyes. Heavy fog covered the alley from view while mist coated his face and eyelashes. His clothes were soaked through and a smell of smoke filled the air. The tall man stands after a moment, his lips pulled into a frown as his eyes follow the blood in the ground as it falls between the stones of the road. He kneels carefully and lifts the body. He moves it to a cart he had waiting with a Clydesdale hooked to it. "Alright...alright. Let's see what I can find out." The man begins to check pockets on the man from Angmar and grabs a folded parchment along with a bracelet of ornament gold with red stones. Rak sets them to the side and covers the body with a blanket before moving to sit in the seat of the wagon. He snaps the reins and the draft horse takes off, trotting down the wet cobblestone. He slows them as the rain continues to fall on the back alleys of Bree. The roads were already soaked with water dripping from the rooftops and the hanging lanterns.
He passes by houses and guards watching the seats, his eyes looking at the many faces he passes, rain dripping from his hood onto his hair and running down his face. His grip tightens around the reins, the leather creaking as his breath comes out in clouds in the dark foggy air of the night. Lanterns lit up the roads barely as he drives the cart towards the gate. The man stops the horse as they get close, "Bringing another one to the healer."
The guard moves from his position to walk around the cart and lifts the blanket before grimacing. He then replaces the blanket and nods. Rak snaps the reins again and clicks his tongue, his eyes forward as the draft horse pulls the cart onto the dirt road out of Bree, the lantern on the back of the cart swinging lightly as the horse trots along, the leather whining and creaking as the metal clinks. The horse's shoes thunking against rocks that the mud had exposed.
Rak's thoughts began to wander back to a time where an anvil and hammer had been his father's pride and joy and his mother had worked as a cook for a family who had needed the service and paid well. His father faced mild insults while his mother faced worse. He had been lucky as he grew up until his mother couldn't deal with it anymore and took him with her to live with her family for a time. The change was shocking. The culture had been different in the small set of houses they had lived in but he had grown to love his mother's people….the same people he was now inspecting the murders off. One he had known, the others were not known to him but he knew where they were from. Where they were from and where his mother had been from, Angmar.
He is brought back to the present fully as lanterns and lit windows shine through the fog on a hill surrounded by bushes and some still blooming flowers, something which amused him knowing the healer within. The infirmary he had been dealing with. The only healer he had found that was willing to provide the services he needed for his investigation. The blond stops the horse once they get to the back entry and jumps down from the buckboard seat to jog to the door, the rain falling hard now and pelting him hard enough to bruise his bare arms. A young redhead opens the door, "Ah. Thistleberry. I have another I need your services with." The healer opens the doors fully and Rak turns, moving back to the wood cart, removing the blanket off the back of it, and lifting the body up carefully. He carries it in and sets it on the table carefully before stepping back. The red head moves over and begins looking them over before frowning at the blond, "Take your time." Rak replies to the look, "Take your time."
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Rak stands straighter from where he had been leaning as the healer walks out of his back room, wiping his hands with a towel. The young man grabs a paper and begins to write on it while Rak moves over, looking over his shoulder. "Like the others then...thank you. I will bring this to the guards. I know the paperwork for 'cause of death' isn't normally your job but thank you." The young healer stands and turns, "I am doing what I can. I do not care for these crimes either." The man's raspy voice was always so jarring at first. It causes Rak to wonder about what had happened to him. He finally nods after a moment, "Most will look the other way and you may have people coming after you for helping me with this." The healer, Clay, if he remembered right, shakes his head, "I have my own reasons for this. I do not mind what might come from it." Rak frowns and paces a bit, " I would rather not pick you up one of these days for offering your services in help," he mutters as he switches midstep and moves over to the bookcase.
His calloused fingers move over the spines of the books, "I have been asking people in the town and keep ending up with fingers being pointed in every direction. I do not have any leads about who is behind this yet." He reached into his pocket and pulls out the folded parchment, "I do have this though." His fingers shake as he tries to open it, he finally gets it open though, a threat written on it towards the Angmariam man that had been killed. The healer walks up beside him and takes it carefully before beginning to sniff it. Rak stares at him, "What are you doing, please tell me this isn't a hobby of yours." The healer just gives him an odd look. "No," he rasps, "This is charcoal ink. Someone has made it with ground charcoal and alcohol." The young man coughs a bit and grabs a water skin, drinking from it while Rak grabs the paper back and smells it. "Yes, but it could be made by anyone. There is no signature, or seal. Aside from them being able to read and write, we have nothing." The young healer begins moving around the room, "It is a start. Are you wishing to bury this one as well?" Rak takes a breath, "They deserve that much." He releases the breath and moves over to a chair while he watches the man gather some herbs and oil. His brow lifts as he notices him mixing them and then adding them to small burning lamps. His nose wrinkles at the smell and he covers it with his hand. The healer laughs a bit and finishes his weird little task, "Blood smells. This helps." The inspector shakes his head, "I am not going to ask more." He stands and heads towards the back but stops as footsteps follow him, "I can bury him on my own." The person brushes past him and gathers a coat before grabbing a basket and heading towards the back.
Rak steps forward and grabs one of the other coats hanging on the wall, "Fine, but I am making you dig as well." His feet carry him to the table and he lifts the body again, putting it in the back of the cart while the healer gathers a piece of wood. They both move to the front of the cart and climb into the front seat. Rak picks up the reins and snaps them, getting the stallion to pull the cart at trot towards a place even further away from the town.
Gold eyes look toward the young man next to him, "Why are you involved, you are a Breelander and surely have some of the same feelings." The sound of a heavy snort surprised him, " No," follows the sound, "I was born outside of Bree. I came a couple of years ago. People do not look for what they do not expect to find." The older man frowns, "I see." He apparently would have some work to do later, "Can I inquire also how it is that you agreed to do autopsies. Many would shy away from that sort of thing." The young man stiffens. "I do not normally do such things," his raspy voice was almost impossible to hear over the rain, "I have been using them to find different sicknesses or if asked by the guards. They had me study under someone that did it for them in the past for a short time. I requested it when I wanted to further my studies, something I am still doing." He coughs for a bit, his breath coming is harsh clouds while Rak slowly reaches to pat his back to ease the coughing, "When you asked for my help my own personal reasons pushed me to say yes."
Rak pulls the reins tight as they get to a place where water was washing across the road. A hiss comes from him, "We will have to find a way around," he says before being cut off by the sound of splashing. "Come back here! You are asking to be hurt!" His fingers wrap tight around the reins but do not pull back as the man begins to wade forward, his hand tangled in the bridle of the horse, leading him to pull the cart forward and across the water. "Stubborn! Mule headed!" He holds on as the cart shifts before the horse pulls forward the rest of the way and gets the cart out of the water. The healer jumps back onto the cart, soaking wet as Rak takes off his coat and pulls it around him. "That was a foolish thing. "
He snaps the reins again and they take off at the trot, the stallion snorting, "Alright. We need to get him buried soon." His eyes snap to his right as the healer's head moves in a small nod. His body jerks suddenly though as the cart bounces over a stone. "Let us hope we get there in one piece. I am beginning to have my doubts."
The man notices the red head gripping the side of the cart's seat tightly but doesn't comment on it as he steers the draft horse up a hill to a small grove before slipping out of the wagon. He moves around the side to the back and pulls the blanket away as the other man grabs a shovel. Rak grabs one as well and they begin digging in the mud. "Got to make it deep. The mud is going to be trouble though." He shovels a few piles to the side as he speaks, "I'll have to tie a rope to one of the trees when we start getting further down." The red head lets out a hoarse humorless laugh, "Most do not bury the dead in a storm. It is not wise to become the buried instead." Rak lets out a barking laugh, "Yes. The risks are not ones the wise would normally take."
As they get further down the blond does what he said he would and gathers a rope from the cart, tying it tightly to a tree before pulling it over to the grave, "Grab it if you start to slip." They continue to dig as thunder rolls and lightning cracks, rains still hitting the ground. Water was filling the bottom of the grave. Rak looks it over before grabbing Clay's arm and pulling him out. "That is deep enough. Any deeper and we risk too much." He gets a quick jerk of the head in response as he turns towards the cart. He grabs the body and carries it over.
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After burying it and setting a piece of wood at the head of the grave they move back to the cart. The wood stood next to five others. None of the pieces had time to age yet, all still rather fresh. The grass hadn't even started to grow back on the first grave. One one bore a name. The rest were blank.
Rak helps Clay into the cart's seat once more before taking off towards the infirmary. "I do hope the guard hasn't given you trouble over this. I know when the first cause of death came in they tossed it to the side." His light gold eyes look to the side before the raspy reply comes, "No. Not yet. They are wanting to keep this quiet. They do not want the panic. I think you should do you best to solve it on your own or with trusted help." The investigator nods, his fingers fidgeting with the leather reins, "Yes, I figured as much. That is why I have asked you. I do not know many here yet, and as you said, it would not be wise to spread panic. Not over this. Not yet."
